Tonight You're A Stranger
by Katie Havok
Summary: She dresses in typical American fashion, but England is an entirely different beast. She is not prepared for the backhand remarks or the staring, especially from the men, as though she were some strange and exotic specimen on display for their perusal. And of course, just to add insult to grievous injury, not one of them bats an eyelash at Newt's ten-years-outdated rounded collars.


Warning: _**smut!**_ This was originally published on Ao3 on February 4th, 2017 and is being uploaded here for the sake of my own ego.

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Tina is not a diplomat. She is not diplomatically inclined in any fashion, and she knows this. More importantly, her companion in all things knows this. Which is perhaps why he doesn't comment on her choice of apparel when they are forced to attend these functions, much in the same way she doesn't criticize _his_.

She dresses in typical American fashion, but England is an entirely different beast. She is not prepared for the backhand remarks. Or the staring, especially from the men, as though she were some strange and exotic specimen on display for _their_ perusal. And of course, just to add insult to grievous injury, not one of them bats an eyelash at Newt's ten-years-outdated rounded collars, or the fact that his trousers are just this side of too short.

It's because he's _Newt_ , of course. He's the current celebrity and the man whom this entire gala is ostensibly built around. Besides that, he would be entirely unaffected by the criticism and allow it to roll blithely off his back.

Tina is not so lucky, and of course, her dress, entirely American in cut and design, is considered scandalous. While the other woman sport long, flowing confections of taffeta and tulle, their arms concealed by crushed velvet gloves, Tina had chosen a simpler garment. The black sheath of her dress mutters with tiny beads, and her silver t-strap shoes cause her to be taller than Newt—an effect he doesn't mind if the way he kissed her before they entered was any indication. Her arms are bare, the front of the dress almost dowdy in coverage, but the back swooping low enough to hint at the curve of her bottom.

Tina watches him mingle, nearly spilling his beverage onto a passing woman when he gestures expansively. She can tell he's speaking of something that interests him, because the people around him sport glazed, uncomprehending expressions. Tina dips her face into her glass to cover a derisive snort and swaps drinks when the house elf comes around. She feels eyes on her, not for the first time this evening, and keeps her head down as she looks around.

The former Leta Lestrange is staring at her, openly and without apology. She stands on the arm of a tall, dour-looking gentleman, presumably her husband, and she rakes her eyes over Tina with haughty grandeur. The woman turns to her companion and says something, lip curling in disdain. He turns and stares, none too subtly, before turning back to his wife with a shudder, and the two share a laugh before moving to the other side of the room.

Embarrassed, irritated, and alone, Tina sets her glass down firmly and stalks over to where Newt stands.

"Tina!" he exclaims when he spots her, eyes widening in relief. He shoves through the crowd to take her elbow, his eyes shining with gratitude. He settles a proprietary hand on her arm and says loudly, "I know I promised to show you the Hall of Wonders, and I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. Come." He doesn't wait for her response, just hauls her away. Bemused, she stumbles after him.

"Merlin's _tangled_ beard," he growls, once they've found a quite place against a wall. He runs an irritated hand through his hair and fidgets with his bow-tie as he turns to face her. "I'm sorry to leave you alone, the Minister and his lapdogs wanted to talk about ridiculous fluff. There's a war raging around them, and they're concerned about campaign promises!" He downs his glass and signals for another one, which he knocks back neatly when it arrives.

"Better," he murmurs as he rubs his upper lip, and then his eyes focus on her face and he frowns. He moves closer to Tina, watching her intently, and his fingers as gentle as he tangles their hands together. "What happened? Did somebody say something to you?" He swallows nervously but his voice is firm when he asks, "Did somebody try to... _touch_ you?"

Tina shakes her head, unable to meet his worried gaze. "Nothing like that, Newt. Just...I shouldn't have worn this dress. The way the other woman look at me is bad enough, but the way the _men_ look at me..." She shudders delicately, unable to give voice to her disdain and revulsion, and Newt uses his arm to pull her close to him. She tips her face so their foreheads touch and he hums in his throat.

"They know we are a package deal, even if we haven't made it official. And I can't entirely blame them because you are _quite_ lovely in this dress." He fingers her beaded waist, his thumb pressed into the exposed skin on her back, and when his eyes find hers they are almost entirely black, with just the barest ring of blue at the edges. Tina feels her breath catch in her throat. "The other women are jealous, and their men envious that they do not have you on their arm, and _I_ , with my ridiculous notions and absurd hair, _do_."

He kisses the tip of her nose and blesses her with a crooked smile. Then he steps back and sweeps his eyes over her, starting with her shiny waves in her hair, hovering over the drape of her dress, the silk of her stocking and the gilt on her shoes. The return journey sees him lingers on the flare of her hip, the swell of her breasts, and the expansive, creamy skin of her bare arms. "They envy us both," he declares, and his voice has dropped half an octave. "I envy myself."

The entire notion is ridiculous, but rather than breaking the tension, Tina finds herself gasping at his frank appraisal. Her hand shakes when she reaches out to take his, and his hungry gaze causes heat to stir in her chest. Newt strokes his thumb over her knuckles, a soothing gesture that only serves to inflame. She swallows, and she watches as he drinks in the bob of her throat. His lips part, there's a flash of pink as he moistens them, and warmth curls through her body. Tina very suddenly and very definitely wants to be anywhere but _here_.

"Show me your office," she breathes, stepping deliberately into his space. His nod is tremulous but his hand is steady when he twines their fingers. She presses close enough for him to feel the swell of her breast, and his liquored eyes smolder when they turn to her. Tina can feel the heat in that gaze, and her knees go a bit weak.

Tina doesn't care who spots them as they leave, so Newt sets them off at a rapid clip, skirting the gathered throngs of the room until they reach the empty corridor. The door cuts them off from the cacophony of the party and they are met with sudden, blessed silence. Not one to let an opportunity pass, Tina spins him into the wall and presses their bodies together. He meets her mouth halfway, her fingers tangling in his hair as he smooths his palms down her back. He tastes like whiskey, champagne, and Newt, and she hungrily seeks those flavors in all corners of his mouth.

"You're quite eager," he murmurs, when she allows them to breathe, and her lips purse to follow the crisp edge of his collar. She uses her teeth to loosen his bow-tie, and his groan vibrates against her mouth. He gasps loudly when she nibbles his ear, and she feels him shudder as she sucks the tender spot behind it. "This isn't the place," he pants, gently pushing her away from his skin. "But I do know one. Come on."

Tina wraps herself around him as they ride the lift, and by the time they're in the bowels of the Ministry, his hair is more ruffled than usual and his jacket hangs open. He leads her to a slightly crooked door with a slightly crooked sign, and he places double locking charms upon it once they're safely ensconced in the small room. Then her mouth finds him and they trip across the space, hands roaming, mouths connected, bodies straining, until they stumble over his desk chair.

Newt kicks it aside with a grunt before pushing her into the cleared space. He lifts her onto his desk and her legs wrap around him and pull him close. Tina's teeth find his bow-tie and she yanks it off, sharing a playful smile as she tosses it aside.

"It gets in the way," she declares, and then her fingers are on his throat while she works his buttons, and her mouth is on his skin as she suckles the flesh covering his neck. Goosebumps erupt, and she laves them with her tongue, moaning happily.

Newt's hands fall to her thighs, where her dress is draped across her skin. He pushes the fabric up and runs his palms over the length of her garters, moaning into her shoulder. He trails gentle fingers over the skin of her inner thigh and smiles when she shivers. Then he squeezes the muscles of her thighs, feeling her legs contract against him, and the first scent of her arousal reaches his nose. He groans, and she nips his collarbone.

Newt shrugs out of his suit jacket and lets it fall. Tina works the buttons on his shirt until it is open, and her teeth find his flat nipples as he gasps into her hair. Her hands fall to the fastening of his trousers with a questioning sound, and he nods emphatically before allowing his own hands to drift inwards. Her undergarments prove no impediment, for she is open and without barrier here, and the first tentative brush of his fingers finds her slick and hot. He inhales sharply.

"You _want_ this," he marvels, as he always does when they reach this point, and Tina raises her head to look him.

"I always want you," she answers, and her gentle kiss is a sweet contrast to their eager fumbling.

Newt pushes her dress up far enough to display her thighs and hips, while Tina yanks down his trousers and underwear. He grunts when he springs free, welcoming the shock of cooler air, and Tina wraps her hand around him expertly. His fingers flit over and around her mound before finding her clit, and he rubs while she strokes, until they're both trembling with need.

Tina drags her ass closer to the edge of the desk and wraps her legs around him, locking her heels at the small of his back. "Newt," she hisses, her legs trembling where they cage him. " _Newt_. Please." He flicks the hair out of his face before nodding assent and taking himself in hand. He groans when he lines them up, and watches himself sink into her through half-lidded eyes. Tina mewls and arches her back to receive him, her nails digging into his bicep.

Newt doesn't waste time with preliminary explorations, settling them immediately into a firm rhythm. His hands dig into her hips hard enough to mark as he thrusts against her, and Tina reaches around to cup his ass, gasping at the feeling of his muscles working beneath his skin. She braces herself against the shock of his thrusts with her other arm, legs falling open wantonly as she trembles and moans. Newt's eyes sweep her, from her parted thighs to the bounce of her breasts beneath the fabric of her dress to where they are connected, and he bares his teeth at her.

"You need to come," he growls as she closes her eyes, toes curling in bliss. " _I_ can't until you do, so you—" He cuts himself off by finding her clit, causing her entire body to shiver against him. He leans forward to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, panting against her lips while he increases the intensity of his thrusts. Tina chokes out his name and he swallows it, murmuring encouragements. A calloused hand finds and squeezes her breast, and he draws back far enough to allow her to form sounds. Tina can still feel the curl of his mouth, smiling as she moans musically.

"There it is," he breathes, his entire body vibrating against her. "That's it, Tina, oh _yes_." He shudders, his fingers tweak her clit _just so_ , and Tina's head falls back with a sob. He latches himself to her throat, sucking deeply, and something deep and primal within Tina saturates and spills over. She comes hard enough to drown out all other sensations, surrendering happily to the molten surge.

Newt growls as she tightens and flutters around him, and she's only dimly aware of it when he ratchets up his pace. The scent of his light, almost citrusy sweat fills her nose as she comes down and she moans blissfully, digging her fingernails into his ass.

The bright spots of pain act as a sharp counterpoint to pleasure and he growls again, rollings his shaggy head forward to nip at her mouth. Tina feels wrung-out and trembly with the receding wave of her release, but she won't see him unsatisfied, so she gathers the core of her female energy and directs it into her eyes and mouth and hands. "I want to feel you," she purrs, and his eyes are entirely black when his face cramps.

Newt rocks forward to bury his face in her neck and the change of the angle of his hips makes them both cry out. He thrusts into her seeking release, seeking succor, and Tina wraps him in her arms and rakes her nails down his back. Newt snarls and snaps his hips hard enough to propel them backward. Tina sinks her teeth into his shoulder, moaning against his skin, and he chokes her name while shuddering violently. She flicks her tongue to taste his sweat and he's there, crying out wildly as his entire body _twists_ , before jittering deeply into her and going still. She can feel the frantic twitching where he's buried within her, and the hot spurt of his release makes her moan in primal satisfaction.

Newt trembles as he sags against her, deep, muscle-wracking spasms that twist his skin into goosebumps. Tina kisses him worriedly as he pants into her arm, keeping a careful eye on his recovery. He eventually calms enough to drop a line of tiny kisses along her shoulder, and his eyes are smiling when he raises his head to look at her. He kisses her sweetly before moving closer with a sigh, tucking her against him.

"Do you doubt how you look in that dress, still?" he asks, and Tina ducks her head to hide the sudden tears that flood her eyes. She shakes her head mutely and he sighs while untangling himself from her. Tina keeps her head lowered while he straightens her legs and rubs them to encourage blood-flow, before withdrawing from her with a wince and using his wand to clean them both up. By the time he's repairing the small tears in her stockings, Tina is once more in control.

Newt helps her stand on slightly rubbery legs and makes sure her dress drapes and conceals properly. He ensures she doesn't look too mussed before attending to himself, magicking her scent from his skin and replacing his discarded garments. He doesn't bother healing the marks she's left behind though, and she smiles at that. His marks, she also leaves alone. She likes feeling them.

Tina knots his bow-tie for him, and when his gaze lingers on her hands, there's a holdover warmth in his eyes that makes her breath catch. He inhales sharply and swallows before looking away. "You've rather ruined me for ties," he murmurs, and Tina giggles at his falsely put-upon tone. He kisses her palm when she finishes, before glancing around his office. "Here, too. I shall never be able to put on a straight-face when seated at my desk, I'm afraid." He smirks and takes her arm. "Thank you for the memories, Tina."

Tina inclines her head humbly as he leads them through the door and toward the lift. "Maybe you should thank my dress," she muses, and his laughter sinks into her skin and warms her from within.

"Maybe I should," he responds, eyes dancing as he brushes his mouth against hers.


End file.
